Five Years a Writer

I have pledged to write a new post for this blog every day in May.  Virginia Woolf wrote in 1929 that a woman needs a room of her own in which to write; this is possibly the best known or most popular quote by the author. But I learned recently of another one that is running a close second for me these days.  “ Nothing has really happened until it has been recorded .” I also came across it as, “Nothing has really happened until it has been described .” She apparently said this to a young writer.  Regardless of the specific verb Woolf used, I like the intent of this, to my mind, acute observation. Though not to be taken literally — for the cat shrieks when its tail is pulled, whether or not the pain is recorded or described, the act surely occurred — Woolf’s intent must have been that to understand the meaning of the act (or event, occurrence, situation, etc.) one must reflect on it, give words to the experience and, in so doing, bring understanding to it.  A room o

I have pledged to write a new post for this blog every day in May.  “I was born into freedom,” I said one Sunday morning on the way to a fancy fundraising brunch with some friends. “I was born into a stable family with parents who loved me unconditionally.”  No one can be more lucky than that.  Photo by  m wrona  on  Unsplash All my good fortune and privilege in this life arises from that solid start. It is the springboard from which I have launched fun and work, that catapulted me into friendships and adventures, and that gave me a boost every time I started a new school or a new job. My feet were on solid emotional ground, enabling my heart and head to take on challenges, face risks, and overcome obstacles.  So when I hear someone described as “so lucky”, I wonder what their start in life was and how secure the springboard is from which they launch themselves into the world.  Recently, on the Jungle Red Writers blog that I follow, the discussion centred on

I have pledged to write a new post for this blog every day in May.  They say, being prepared is half the battle. I say, it is the whole battle.  If we are prepared for the battle (metaphorical in my case), then we have done all we can. Whatever happens in the moment, we will respond as best we can. We bring our experience, knowledge and wisdom to that moment; we make a decision; we act. And we move on. That is how we make our mark in this world. Sometimes it sounds like a roar -- literally, we shout, yell, scream. We rise up in the streets. Other times, it sounds like quiet, calm confidence. At a table. My big meeting is over and done. My proposal will be accepted or not. But I have roared. And that is all I can do in this moment.  ------------ Writers want to be read, so comments, rebuttals and feedback are all welcome. Subscribe to the blog to receive the posts direct into your email inbox. Use Google Chrome or FireFox as your browser, if you have prob

I have pledged to write a new post for this blog every day in May.  I don’t much like the dark. It’s scary because I don’t know what’s hiding in it, and my imagination runs wild. All my life, I’ve disliked it, but, as an adult, I have learned to deal with it. After all, it is not practical for a grown person to be debilitated by the dark. So, I take a flashlight with me to the basement to check in the corners for baddies; I walk with purpose down the road after sundown, saying to myself, “Don’t be an idiot. It’s just the dark.”  The thought of the dark is often worse than the darkness itself. And, truly, there is nothing quite like the euphoria of facing the fear and having done what, for a moment, seemed impossible. I don’t like checking out the corners of the basement for baddies, but I’d far rather know they weren’t there than wonder if they are. And walking down the road gets me home, which, after dark, is where I want to be.  As Mark Twain said, “Courage is not th

I have pledged to write a new post for this blog every day in May.  I have a big meeting later this week, and I am thinking about Norman.  He was a candidate on the fifth season of The Great British Bake Off, and he was a good baker. He brought his Scottish heritage to every recipe he made, and he produced consistently good pieces.  Photo by  Jez Timms  on  Unsplash But he also consistently played it safe. He did what he knew how to do, and he did it well, but he didn’t venture beyond that boundary. He was satisfied with what he did, how he did it, and what he produced. He didn't push himself; he didn't want to.   But I do.  As I enter what Jane Fonda calls my third act , I want to use what I know and take it out for a spin in the fast lane. I want to put my theories of leadership to the test.  I want to go out (metaphorically speaking) with a bang, not a whimper.   …to be continued…  ------------ Writers want to be read, so comments, r

I have pledged to write a new post for this blog every day in May.  The concept of leadership is much on my mind, as there is such a dearth of it in our world today. Yes, individuals are in positions of leadership, but that does not make those individuals leaders. For it is their actions, not their position, that make them so.  L E A D E R S H I P : S pringboard . H elp .  I nclusion . P arty. For my final entry in Leadership by the Letter, I am tying the last four letters together. Partly because I’m running out of days in May, but mostly because I like that, together, they spell SHIP.  Whether large or small, a ship is a vessel that runs best when the systems that keep it going are operated by a crew (of greater or lesser size), working together to contribute their individual parts towards the forward motion of the greater whole.  And every crew has a captain, a leader.  Geraldine Ferraro: 1984 // Greta Thunberg: 2020 S is for SPRINGBOARD , which is defi

I have pledged to write a new post for this blog every day in May.  Continued from yesterday’s post , Sins I When in doubt, look to your elders for direction. I do.  I look to my mother. She drops the F bomb, sometimes casually, other times mindfully and with exquisite care to evoke just the right reaction. Who can argue with one’s mother?  I look to Dame Helen Mirren, who is quoted as saying she wishes that she’d said ‘fuck off’ more as a young woman. Who would argue with the woman who played the iconic Detective Tennison, the powerful Queen Elizabeth I, and the remarkable Queen Elizabeth II?  And I look to Dame Judi Dench, who not only says fuck off, but embroiders it for all eternity in cross stitch .  I can even, as I learned recently through research, look to our primate forebears. “Swearing is good for you”, intones this National Geographic article , “and chimps do it, too.” It states that “new research reveals that profanity has many positive v